


Union

by RussianWitch



Category: Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Kryptonian Culture & Customs, M/M, Marriage, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 17:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22002532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: The Union drags on.It starts with a fast and the night spent meditating before the altar of Rao.Dru is used to sleepless nights, all soldiers are no matter their rank, he’s spent his fair share on watch during training and later during campaigns too even when it was no longer befitting his rank.He doesn’t think about Kal.Political marriage with feels.
Relationships: Clark Kent/General Zod
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Union

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stable Relationships](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18899032) by [RussianWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch). 



> Not beta'd

The Union drags on.

It starts with a fast and the night spent meditating before the altar of Rao. 

Dru is used to sleepless nights, all soldiers are no matter their rank, he’s spent his fair share on watch during training and later during campaigns too even when it was no longer befitting his rank.

He doesn’t think about Kal.

He doesn’t!

Whatever the brat is doing, El’s family rituals are their own and not Dru’s problem as long as he’s not required to participate.

He definitely doesn’t think about the wedding night, about finally splitting the boy open on his dick.

Showing his mate his place in the world.

No, Dru thinks about Duty, about advancement and the betterment of Krypton as is proper on the night before the Union.

When Faora comes to get him early in the morning, he’s annoyed to find his knees creaking after a night of kneeling.

“Ready for the big day, General?” She asks already knowing his answer.

“The El’s insist on a full ceremony,” he groans stalking off to the chamber set aside for his ablutions in the morning. Feora follows chuckling under her breath as she helps him out of his armor, “half a day of recitations and courting.” 

“The sacrifices you make, sir, will be glorified in future legends.” 

Dru knows she’s rolling her eyes while undoing the fastenings of his under armor. The nanites making up the circuitry and insulation turn liquid pooling on the floor and leaving him naked and ready for the Cleansing.

He suffers the two soldiers who come to assist handing him in silence taking ten times as long as a sonic shower. 

The ceremonial armor he puts on once they are finally done feels too light and somehow manages to _itch_. 

“Let’s get on with it,” he huffs once Feora presents him with the only weapon he’s allowed to carry, a sword of all things, a metal one.

He zones during most of the ceremonies.

Every Kryptonian knows the basics by heart and family variations are easy to learn to a dedicated student. 

Beside him, Kal fidgets like the child he still is unable to stand still for long.

He’s—attractive in reds and blues, heavy robes obscuring his body.

Dru wants to rip them off, force the boy down and mount him right there to show everyone Kal is his as has been the tradition of the Warrior Cast for ages. When their eyes meet, Kal shivers, and Dru is sure the boy knows what he’s thinking.

It’s been hours by the time the priest wraps the cords around their clasped hands signaling their Union to be complete.

Jor-El looks grim but resigned and Kal, Kal looks _smug._

The cords are alloys and nanites that twist and turn as the feast goes on breaking apart into bracelets that will be the daily sign of their Union.

Kal spends the whole fest in Dru’s lap, a squirmy, flirty, taunting bundle of boy who has Dru considering shooting everyone at the feast just to get things over with long before they are finally released. 

As the head of their new household, Dru has to say goodbye to all the guests as Kal disappears into Dru’s bedroom to prepare for their wedding night.

It takes him another hour to untangle himself from the clutches of nosy, bored wellwishers who still long for the old days when the wedded couple would descend into savagery before the eyes of all invited to remind themselves and everyone else once and for all what they had renounced. 

Dru thanks Rao they are left to fuck it out in private.

He doesn’t kick anyone out of the door, though by the smirk on Feora’s face as she marches out he hasn’t suppressed the urge as well as he thought he did. Setting the droids to guard the perimeter and discourage any visitors with as much violence as the law allows Dru turns towards the bedroom and stalls.

Tradition demands--a ridiculous number of things Dru has no patience for.

Common sense demands a number of things as well.

The house is silent except for the soft buzzing of the plasma-torches flanking the doors to Dru’s bedroom--their bedroom now-- _his bedroom containing his husband._

Veils had been hung all over the place obscuring Dru’s view, cluttering up the room.

He resists the urge to grab the laser knife hidden in the altar to Mordo just in case his bonded’s state of dress isn’t the only surprise his bedroom holds.

The air stinks of sweet herbs and spices, chimes have been hung on the windows, Dru hates it. He unties his robe dropping it as he kicks curtains out of the way.

His bed has been remade.

Simple sheets replaced with crimson silk, a heap of pillows and--Dru almost swallows his tongue at the sight of his bonded.

Kal sprawls among the silk like a courtesan only sparkling chains hiding his non-existent modesty.

“Bondmate,” Dru growls stopping to loom over the brat who gives him one of his arrogant, self-satisfied smirks.

“Dru,” Kal drawls arching his back, pale skin and iridescent chains.

“You’re mine now, boy,” Dru janks the red silk sliding it out from under Kal instead of dragging him closer.

The boy laughs and Dru has no choice but to crawl onto the bed to get his hands on his bondmate. 

“They wanted to prepare me,” Kal purrs shivering when Dru tugs on the chains running from his ankles up to his thighs. 

Dru grits his teeth rage flaming in his gut at the thought of servants touching his property.

“I didn’t let them!” Kal hurries to assure him abandoning his whorish sprawl to roll up on his knees. 

The chains decorating the boy chime and Kal freezes mid-motion gasping as they tug and caress, hissing as foreign sensations run through his body.

The sound goes straight to Dru’s loins, makes his skin burn with the need to touch, to conquer--he reaches out tangling his fingers in the delicate chains pulling them tight and watching the boy’s confidence disappear.

“Kal,” Dru huffs leaning in to nuzzle the boy’s throat.

“General,” Kal stammers lowering his eyes demurely, biting his bottom lip. 

Dru feels him tremble, nothing of the confident prince of Krypton left. 

“Now he’s respectful!” Dru sighs letting go of the crystal chains, silently asking Rao what exactly he’s being punished for.

“I would never disrespect my bondmate,” Kal whispers. “Or deny him.” He stutters on ‘deny’ shivering and making the chains chime again.

Dru entertains the image of ending the night with the boy riding his fingers then cock while Dru snaps the chains one by bone until the crimson sheets are littered with broken crystal links like stars for a long moment, then pushes away from the boy.

“Get up and I’ll help you take the chains off,” he orders, rolling off the bed. 

“General!” Kal exclaims grabbing his hand. “No, please I want to serve as is prop--!” 

He shakes the boy’s hand off, cupping his cheek instead. “You will be the death of my boy!” Dru kisses his bondmate, deep and possessive until the boy forgets himself and the chains kissing back in the hungry way Dru has gotten used to from his betrothed until Kal moans and sinks his nails in the back of Dru’s neck when he tries to pull away.

“That’s my brat,” Dru grins against the boy’s lips, carefully pulling him into his lap.

“I _do_ want to please you--Dru.” 

The returns of the self-satisfied smirk to Kal’s lips sends a bolt of heat through Dru’s body.

“You will,” Dru traces the smirk with his thumb pushing into the hot cavern of the boy’s mouth on the second pass, “you do.” He groans when Kal’s teeth scrape against his knuckle then proceeds to suck. “My brat! Tonight we will sleep,” he pins Kal’s tongue before the boy can attempt to voice a protest, “and tomorrow I will ravish you all over the house.”

“I’ll expect nothing less, General,” Kal husks after a final nip to the pad of Dru’s thumb.

“Now help me get the Rao damned sheets off my bed!” 

*****

The sheet being slowly tugged off his body wakes Dru from a too light sleep.

Sleeping next to someone will take getting used to.

Fortunately, Kal’s attempts at stealth are pathetic, but they make Dru curious enough he doesn’t move.

Kal’s breath is fast tickling Dru’s thigh, his hands unsure. 

Dru wonders if his bondmate is disappointed finally having laid eyes on his bare flesh. Among the warriors, scars are considered marks of honor but outside their ranks, they are the signs of savagery and barbarism the majority of their society has left behind. He doesn’t expect to feel the boy’s tongue trace an old scar along the thigh with his tongue, then nuzzled at a patch of skin burned smooth by a blaster with a soft moan.

“Impossible brat,” Dru gasps when Kal nuzzles at the base of his cock breathing wet and hot against his rising flesh only to feel him laughing against his hip. 

“Good morning, bondmate,” Kal whispers eyes bright with mischief. “I thought I’d amuse myself until you were finished resting.”

“Did you now?” Dru asks reaching down to tangle a hand in Kal’s curls, tugging softly on the ebony locks. “Then carry on.”

He shoves another pillow under his head to comfortable watch Kal as he goes back to exploring Dru's scars.

"Why do you still insist on combat postings? Your rank--" Kal asks licking along the sensitive skin along the edge of a fresher scar. His breath tickles on Dru’s skin, a hint of stubble catching on his skin.

"Because it was what I was created for; fighting, conquering and defending." He sighs when Kal nuzzles at the root of Dru's cock, working his way up to the tip with little feline licks that would drive even Rao himself insane, the occasional scrape of teeth as Kal worked his way down adding to the pleasure.

Even the feeling of Kal choking on him is a special kind of pleasure. 

Dru cups the back of Kal’s hand imagines forcing to take him deeper as he cries and struggles for air but strokes the nape of the boy’s neck encouragingly instead.

“I take combat posting so people like your father can rail and rant about savagery in peace and safety.” He says trailing off in a groan of regret when Kal pulls off.

“Don’t talk about my father in bed!” Kal huffs scrunching his nose in disgust.

“Come here then,” he tugs his husband up to plunder his mouth and taste himself. “Now, what did you have in mind when you started molesting me?” 

“You never let me see you,” Kal reminds him, “I was curious.” 

“And what’s the verdict?” Dru runs his hand up and down Kal’s spine, enjoying the young man’s flawless skin under his fingers.

“That I am very lucky to have such a powerful bondmate,” Kal says batting his eyelashes.

He laughs when Dru rolls them and pins him to the mattress with one hand while snagging the oil from the side table with the other.

“Now,” Dru says running the tip of the crystal stopper over Kal’s skin, “I made you a promise last night,” and slots his leg between Kal’s thighs.

Kal opens up for him, less nervous in daylight his arousal firm against Dru’s abdomen.

“Yes, General,” Kal purrs arching against Dru’s thigh.

The taste the boy’s skin is familiar to Dru by now. The curve of Kal’s throat, the jut of collar bone, the tight peak of a nipple that Dru worries at until Kal’s hands are in his hair tugging painfully as he curses.

Dru stops to breathe against his husband’s taut abdomen making the boy squirm by dragging his unshaven cheek against soft skin.

Kal’s cock urgently pokes Dru’s shoulder, slippery and fat.

Impulsively Dru swallows him whole, chokes himself on the boy’s cock and makes Kal howl in shock. Driving the boy wild with pleasure is an enjoyable chore, even if he does get kicked in the ribs. When he pulls off, Kal sobs and pulls at his hair trying to get him back, but Dru ignores his demands marking the young man’s thighs, sucking bruises on the pale skin and leaving his teeth marks around them.

He’s sure Kal doesn’t notice him opening the vial and coating his fingers with the oil.

The boy does gasp when Dru breaches him but not in pain.

“Have you touched yourself, boy?” He demands adding a finger.

Kal bucks and moans shaking his head in denial.

“Noooo…,” he arches up clawing at Dru’s shoulders, trying to pull him up, gasping when Dru sinks his teeth into his flesh right above Kal’s hipbone, “maybe... “ Kal kicks him in the ribs and slips out of Dru’s grasp, rolling onto his belly to rub himself against the sheets.

Dru slaps the tempting target before him.

“I couldn’t resist,” Kal gasps and arches into the blow, to Dru’s complete lack of surprise. “I hate waiting!” 

Dru slaps him again, then spreads Kal’s cheeks. “I am aware,” he sighs dragging his cock along the furrow. 

The moment should be solemn according to Ls tradition, the surrender of Kal’s body to his husband.

It should have happened already by warrior standards violent and public.

Kal’s fingers claw at the sheets as he pants harshly in need and anticipation and Dru presses in, slowly, carefully, stopping to rub the tension out of Kal’s back every time the boy tightens up until he can drape himself over the skinny back.

“Is this what you wanted, boy?” Dru pants into Kal’s ear.

He wants to consume the boy, his boy, his husband, lock him away where no one will ever lay eyes on him again. Chain him up to keep him safe, uncorrupted by thought or deed.

“Feels weird,” Kal mutters against the sheets, wiggling a little and tightening maddeningly around Dru. 

He reaches out, covers Kal’s hand with his own, laces their fingers together and grips tight.

It takes forever before Kal relaxes around him before the uncomfortable wigging turns into inquisitive rocking.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” Dru confesses against the back of his husband’s neck. “My beautiful, arrogant boy.” 

Getting his knees under him, Dru drags both of them up.

Kal curse sinking deeper onto Dru’s cock, flailing around until Dru guides his arms to his own neck. 

“Raise yourself up,” he orders, the words sticking to his tongue and Kal curses at him.

Between the two of them, they manage to get Kal’s knees under him and his shoulders braced against Dru’s chest. 

It’s slow and awkward and Dru can’t remember and occasion he’s had to fight so hard not to disgrace himself and spill early before. 

“Dru, Dru, Dru,” Kal hiccups clutching at him, wrapping their arms around them as he rocks and grinds.

Dru marks the boy’s pale skin, sucks bruises on freckled shoulders and scratches welts on lean ribs.

From the sound of him, Kal is getting closer and closer.

He wants to see it, Dru realizes, wants desperately to see his husband come.

Wrenching Kal off his dick hurts and makes the boy yowl in protest. 

Dru drops to his side sucking in air, getting himself under control as Kal curses at him grinding himself against the sheets.

“Come here, boy!” Dru orders rolling onto his back, “I want to see you take your pleasure from me.” 

Kal lunges, his kiss sloppy and wet, shoving his tongue into Dru’s mouth, desperate and hungry. Dru opens up for it, let’s his husband pin his arms, groans his pleasure when Kal bites at his throat and clutches at the sheets when he’s mounted surrendering control.

He’s watched Kal ride a hundred times cursing the reckless boy for taking chances with himself. He never thought he’d feel jealous of the mounts, with the boy riding him the same joyous smile on his lips as when he’s flying.

Bracing on Dru’s chest, Kal sinks down onto him.

He’s beautiful, Dru thinks, with his eyes falling closed as he bites his bottom lip raw, his muscles straining as Kal works for his pleasure, their pleasure.

“My husband,” Kal pants, his nails digging into Dru’s skin leaving marks of his own. 

He did not expect them or the way being marked ratchets his arousal up into a wildfire of lust.

“Mine!” the boy snarls, grabbing Dru’s hand and dragging it over to his cock, using both their hands to stroke himself to release. 

Freeing his hand, Dru clutches at Kal’s hips holds him still while fucking up into the tight clutch of Kal’s ass even as the young man slumped onto his chest. 

Dru comes, his face buried in Kal’s curls, caught up in his husband to the point of the universe dropping away, drowned out by pleasure.

Kal wiggles on top of him, hissing and cursing as he pulls off and flops down next to Dru, only to rise up not a minute later to look down on him.

“Do I get to fuck you?” He demands against Dru’s shoulder, rubbing the mess he made on Dru’s chest into his skin.

“Ah, to be young again,” Dru sighs.

“Is that a no?” Kal pushes, his hand wandering down Dru’s body.

Dru catches the wandering hand, bringing it up to suck a purple mark on a golden wrist.

“That’s a ‘give me a moment to catch my breath not all of us are young’, boy.” Dru corrects, “as you’re still brimming with energy, go tell a servant to bring in breakfast. You can fuck me after.” 

The speed with which his husband leaves the bed is gratifying, the fact that he almost breaks his neck tripping over the slippery sheets littering the floor is not. 

Sprawling on the bed, Dru says goodbye to the peace and quiet in his house. 

He’s looking forward to it, he finds, the boy’s demands for attention, his energy and later, when he matures a partner to spar and work with, someone who will stand with him.

He’s going to be annoyed, enraged and distracted.

This neat and regimented life is going to go to hell.

He can’t wait, Dru realizes propping himself up on some pillows as Kal returns followed by servants with trays. 

Opening his arms and Kal sides into the embrace with a delighted smile.

“We’re eating first,” Dru reminds him feeling the boy’s cock drill into his side.

“But after,” Kal whispers far too loudly, “you’re mine!”


End file.
